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I was astounded.
The witch was crying.
The minute I entered the dungeon cell, the witch started crying. Big, fat tears rolling down the piles of wrinkles on her cheeks as her eyes ran down the length of my body. She tried her best to free herself of the shackles tied to her wrists, but failed miserably.
"What is wrong with her?" I asked father, heart pumping erratically.
"I don't know. She said she wanted to speak to you and now-" He let out a short breath, "now this,"
Gulping, I took 4 steps towards her- until my body was right in front of the witch, and squatted down. My eyes stared into hers, furious at the abomination that she was. She sniffed, leaning backwards so she didn't have to face my breath.
"You called for me?" I spoke, head tilted.
The witch flinched backwards.
"I don't like having my time wasted, knave. What is it you need?" A strangled sound came from the back of her throat, "Don't make me force it out of you. You mustn't forget that I own your soul,"
"Luna-" The witch gulped as a droplet of sweat ran down her forehead, "Luna, I am so sorry-"
"I no longer take sorry as an answer, witch," I heard father take a deep breath from behind me, "I order you to tell me the truth. Why did you call for me and what are your plans?"
At the sound of my command, her chest rose and her throat constricted, "The witch of all witches has placed a spell on me to never utter a word of my- my plans to anyone other than a fellow witch-"
"But I own your soul and you told me partly of your plans when you were in the castle," A frustrated breath left me, "Speak of the truth and nothing else,"
"That's because you own my soul," Her eyes shifted to the guards and my father, "but the bastards don't,"
"Listen here you-"
"Get out," I interrupted father, turning to face the men, "I will inform you of whatever is said tonight,"
His jaw clenched but he kept his mouth shut.
I embarrassed him in front of his men. I knew that judging by the redness that stained the tan of his skin, but I really, really didn't care. All I wanted to do was get this business over with so I go figure out why Luca was wearing armour when he left and stop reminscing about what Slaiman had told me.
"Follow me, men," Father gave me one last look - one that said he was letting my behaviour slide under the rug only this time - before he left.
Yeah, leave, I thought.
Once silence accompanied us, I stood up and faced the witch, "Speak,"
A shiver overcame her body.
My brows furrowed.
"The revolution-" She whispered, eyes red, "you are the cause of the revolution,"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I growled, "Stop uttering this nonsense,"
"I didn't notice it much in the castle because- well, I spent most of my days running away from you and anybody else could have had green eyes," Her voice faltered, "but yours are green. Yours are exactly as the mother witch described them,"
My fists clenched at the thought of a witch speaking of me, "You will tell me exactly why a witch was describing me,"
Her chest rose as I ordered her soul.
"The- the prophecy!" She shivered in her rags like lips chattering on a cool night, "You will be the cause of our extinction! The witch demands you be killed!"
My back collided against the wall as I stared at the witch in disbelief.
Me?
I?
And what was this prophecy everyone seemingly knew about that I didn't?
"You best not tell your father of this," She swallowed, eyes shifting left to right as if she feared an intruder would catch us, "you must know his heart has grown weak,"
"How would you know?"
"I can smell it from here," Her nose crinkled, "why do you think he has 7 men guard him wherever he goes? Why do you think he hasn't challenged you yet? Regardless of your bratty behavior? He fears you," My breath caught in my throat, "but he fears losing you more than losing himself at your hands,"
"Stop," I let out, "stop making me feel bad for him,"
Her lips shut at my command and she sunk in her seat.
Goddess.
I hated how easily I felt guilt. Especially towards my father- the man who abandoned me, left me to fend for myself and for his name and dishonors everyday me by lying about my origins to his pack. All so he could have it easier for himself and his new family.
Life was a sick game of survival.
It made my stomach churn.
I had to change the subject.
"Speak of this prophecy," My voice came out raspy, "utter every word the witch said and what power she holds,"
"There is not limit to a witch's power. All she needs is a victim and her own madness," The witch quivered, "if powerful enough, a witch could flip this planet upside down and swallow it whole,"
"How many years of experience would a witch need to do such a thing,"
"Thousands of years,"
"Has any witch lived that long?"
The witch's eyes sparkled, "Our Queen is 14 centuries olds, guard. You are no match for her- nobody is,"
"Where does she live?"
"Do you not want to hear of the prophecy?"
"Don't avoid the question," I warned, "speak of her whereabouts and then continue to explain the prophecy,"
Her jaw clenched, "She lives in the tallest tree of the outskirts. The only tree with green leaves,"
"The tree of the west? The one guarded by 700 monsters?"
"Precisely," The witch looked behind me before speaking again, "now, the prophecy. A Lycan with eyes of thyme brings the witches their cause of demise. A sword as bright as the moon strikes the heart of all Magic's cocoon. Revolution rises raw and time no longer brews. Until years have passed, thyme will no longer debut- only orchids with souls as dark as night swarm the kingdom of all wolves," She leans forward, "Until the warrior hears the trumpets, she will remain in her cage, leaving behind darkness and rampage,"
What.
The.
Hell.
"What are the orchids implying?" I asked, anxiety filling my veins, "What cage do you speak of? How many years will have to pass for what to occur? What darkness will I leave behind?"
"I haven't finished," The witch snapped her head to me, "1 of three northern souls will perish to the other realm. The birds will tell all truth,"
I waited, lips parted.
"Is that it?" I asked, "Because I understood absolutely nothing,"
"That is it,"
My jaw clenched.
"How powerful is the mother witch?" I asked, dreading the dress I was wearing and itching to put my armor on.
The witch tapped her head, "She can get in your head and twist your reality. Make you see things that aren't real. Make you feel things that exist only in your head and her imagination," She dropped her hand, "fear not, though, she isn't able to play with nebulas or displace planets. Not yet at least,"
"Is there any way I can protect myself from her?"
I watched as the witch's throat constricted, evoking an obnoxious sound out of her throat.
"What," I asked through gritted teeth.
"It's her spell-"
"Well snap out of it!" I commanded, "I order your soul to be relieved of her spell!"
The witch let out a strangled scream as sparkles of dark purple began evaporating out of her soul and into the dungeon air. Tears steamed down the wrinkles on her cheeks and her body stretched as greatly as it could within the constraints on her ankles and wrists. The sight was unruly and even forced a gasp out of me, but once it was done- once the aura of darkness saturated in her soul dissipated into thin air, I was glad.
She laid limp, body barely seated on the chair. Shockingly, I was glad her chest was still rising- a steady rhythm of up down up down. I would put her to good use.
I would squeeze every bit of information she had left in her like a lemon till she had nothing left in her. Not even a soul.
Wretched bitch.
Goddess.
When did I become so violent?
Luca mentioned something about a Luna complex, but I felt nothing like one. Really, I felt the same as I'd been the day I met Luca.
Sighing, I turned around and left the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
To my surprise, all seven of fathers men, including father himself, were stood awfully close to the door. Perhaps they'd been eves dropping to the sound of me screaming at a 400 year old witch. That, I didn't know. What I did know, however, was that they were just as confused as I was.
"I'm sure you've heard already," I began, eyeing one of the guards, "but the witch is fast asleep and is not likely to wake up anytime soon. Standing beside the door will only do you so much,"
He blushed furiously and looked to the ground, almost bowing to me.
Judging by the slimness of his body he was most probably still a teenager. Maybe 15. But he was tall. Almost as tall as Luca but not quite there yet. I almost felt guilty for being so cold, but I had to be. Nobody would take me seriously if I was kind.
Especially after what happened with Dalal.
Being young is not an excuse.
With a wind in my hair, I strolled past the men leaving behind only the sound of my heels as I went up the steps of the underground dungeon. It was satisfying feeling their eyes lay on the back of my body; watching as I left them empty handed. Some of their eyes were gazing a bit lower than what I was comfortable with, but I grew from that.
As I reached the last step, I heard father growl.
"If that gaze lowers just one more centimeter I will pick your eyes out with my claws, guard," Father warned, "watch yourself,"
And so I left the dungeon and entered the wonderful northern market.
-_-
I'd been strolling through the wonderfully built market for an hour, hands wrapped around my own body. The lantern lit streets accompanied by the occasional performances; drums, snake songs and belly dancers brought a warmth in me I didn't know existed. It was the kind of warmth that didn't make you happy, rather than one that made you content with the feelings you had brewing inside you. The one that made you feel stable regardless of all the turmoil growing.
Where was Luca? The question circled my mind for several minutes before being occupied by how in the world Slaiman thought I was responsible for the death of his child.
I thought about linking him, but I didn't want to bother him. What if he was working or sorting out important matters between the four kingdoms. Oddly enough, I forgot that he was the King. The man that ruled the world.
To hell with it.
Where are you, I linked.
"Leila Haddad, guard of all guards," A voice called out for me and I spun around, sighing contently at the face that accompanied it.
"Ali," I smiled warmly as I approached his booth, "your paintings are beautiful,"
He had a small cart that was decorated with paintings and bells so that, whenever it moved, it would alert pass Byers. It was beautiful- littered with calligraphy and traditional carvings.
"Thank you. But I'm saddened that you weren't able to see the painting of you with your brother," He shook his head, "it turned out beautiful,"
"You heard what happened. Urgent matters need urgent actions," I ran my fingers over a wonderful pocket sized painting of a purple cat before looking back up at him, "but I'll take your word for it. I cant wait to see it when I'm-" I paused, swallowing, "back at the alpha's home,"
"Back at your fathers home, you mean?"
"How can I say that when nobody in this market recognizes me as the alpha's only daughter?" I whispered through the loud chatter of the market.
Ali looked taken aback, his old brows rising, "You haven't heard?"
I shook my head.
"The alpha stated he wants to speak to all pack members tomorrow at the auditorium," A smile rose to his lips, "said he had an important announcement to make,"
My lips parted, "You're- You're being serious?"
"I don't see why I would be joking. Plus, it was about time. The man finally came to his senses,"
I scoffed, "Lycan's really are weird. Back at the castle I used to treat him with respect, showed him love and mercy despite all his wrongdoings, yet he still didn't tell me of all this. But the minute I ignore him and treat him with a small ounce of the disrespect I have stored within me, he suddenly decides to come to his sense?"
My eyes went to the purple cat to find some form of comfort.
"They say the human side of us is our weakness for a reason. It makes us feel things our wolves don't," He eyed the painting with the purple cat, "take it if you want it,"
"Oh- no, I was just admiring it-"
"I insist. My daughter loved the painting as well. It makes me feel well that someone likes it the way she did," He picked it up and to hand it to me, forcing a horrible blush to stain my cheeks, "please,"
"But- you have a special memory attached to the painting-"
"It is rude to deny a gift. Have you forgotten the culture of your origins?" He rose an offended brow.
My mouth snapped shut and I gulped.
I bowed and accepted the painting, hating how hot my cheeks felt. The dry paint felt wonderful underneath my skin; it's bumps and texture satisfying to the touch. As I stared down at the painting, I wondered how he got each hair on the cats body so perfectly.
He really was talented.
"Thank you," I said, shifting my eyes to look at him, "it's beautiful,"
"What's more beautiful is the fact that your male is walking down the market holding a beautiful box in his hand,"
"What-" I spun around at whiplash speed only to find Luca walking down the market, passing by the several people that bowed down to him with ease.
He held a large box in his hand that was wrapped beautifully in black ribbons.
What wasn't so beautiful, though, was the new scar imprinted right atop his eyes. Immediately, anger filled my body at the thought of anybody attacking my male.
I ran towards him, painting held in my hand as our eyes connected. Blue meeting green. Green meeting blue. In contrast to the worry and angst I was feeling, Luca seemed proud and excited. I felt those emotions thrum through our bond.
"I'm here," He smiled a masculine smile at me, answering my link minutes after I called out for him.
"Luca," I let out, worried, "where have you been?"
"Don't say my name too loudly. Remember. I'm supposed to remain a secret,"
"What's in that box," I asked, ignoring him out of angst, "and who scratched the top of your eye,"
He chuckled, "Calm down, verde. I was out getting the present your father requested I bring before marking you,"
It was only then I realised he was wearing a suit. A very fancy, midnight blue sight. Just the sight of him made my heart pump madly.
"Luca, we have months till that has to happen," I sighed, shaking my head, "what if something happened to you?"
"I'm leaving to the castle tomorrow, Leila,"
My lips parted as I stared up at him.
Already?
"Why?"
"I'm the king," He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the warmth of his hand seeping into my cheeks, "as much as I would like to stay here with you, duty calls. I have paperwork the size of mountains due right this second,"
"Oh," I looked down.
Just when things were getting good.
He tilted my chin upwards, frowning at me, "You could always come with me, sweetheart,"
"Duty calls," I mumbled, "the witch spoke today. I have to stay and observe her,"
His jaw ticked, "Why couldn't we have been commoners? I imagine life is much easier in the middle class realm,"
I huffed out a laugh, "Middle class and above, to be precise. Anything below is just as bad this,"
He wrapped an arm over my shoulder and sighed, somewhat stressed. Those swarm of butterflies made their way up my stomach again at his touch and I smiled into his chest- completely ignoring the looks of confusion and shock passing by us.
"Come on, lets show your father the gift,"
-_-
We arrived in front of fathers door.
I still didn't know what the gift was, but Luca said he had to fight two beings for it. Really, I tried my best to find out if by fight he meant kill, but I couldn't. The man's face turned to stone just at the thought of it.
Luca also liked the painting I held. Said he wanted one of me because of how small and portable it was and I promised to tell Ali to make him one. However, because of how short the walk was, I couldn't bring myself to explain the prophecy I had been given that night.
"Do you want to knock?" He asked, raising a brow at me.
"You do it,"
"Such a child," He teased, knocking on the door.
I stuck my tongue out at him before looking back at the door.
A maid opened it with wide eyes. She bowed immediately, body slumped with fear, "Please, make yourself feel at home king. Guard, I apologize but I don't think the time is appropriate for you to be here at this time so-"
"That is my daughter, Alia. She can enter the home whenever she wants to. You are excused," Father said inside the home, "Leila Haddad, come in,"
I gulped, heart beating erratically.
For the second time that day, my cheeks reddened to the point of pain.
"Oh- I'm so sorry- I didn't know!"
"It's ok," I assured, voice raspy, "you can leave now,"
The maid scurried away leaving Luca my father and I in silence.
"Come in, please," Father eyed Luca as he shut the door behind us, "what do you hold in your hand?"
"The gift, Alpha Haddad," Luca's tone was curt and his voice deep, "open it,"
Father paused before grabbing the box from Luca and placing it in the ground. He pulled the ribbon open and lifted the cover of the box. Immediately, his eyes widened and a gasp left his lips. He snapped his face to Luca's.
"How in the world did you attain this?" Father asked, baffled.
"I spent the day in the outskirts looking for her,"
It was my heads turn to snap to Luca's.
"You did what?"
A small meow sounded and out of the box jumped a cat with fur the colour of dark lavender and eyes the colour of bright amber. The cat padded towards me and nudged her head to my exposed ankles, purring at the feel of my skin on hers.
With a slacked jaw I reached for the cat and lifted her to my chest. She vibrated against me, licking my knuckles ever so gently before sliding her eyes closed and resting.
"Luca," I gushed, petting the purring pets head, "is this why you wore armour before leaving?"
"Yes,"
"Is this why you have a new scar healing atop your eyes?"
"Yes, it is, verde," He smiled down at me, scratching the chin of the sleeping cat in my hands with his index finger, "I hope you like the gift, Alpha Haddad,"
"It's-it's wonderful," Father's face remained flabbergasted, "I imagined you would get me a pot of gold or a field of roses,"
"I live to exceed expectations," Luca allowed one side of his lips to rise, "does this mean my mark on your daughters neck can stay?"
My eyes snapped to his and, to my surprise, they were already glued to mine. I swallowed, understanding exactly what Luca meant by his question. He was subconsciously asking my father for my hand in marriage and, while I knew one day I would marry him, the idea stressed me greatly. Just the thought of marriage drove my thoughts to whatever my mother and father had; the exact opposite of what love was supposed to be.
"You can have that and more," My father walked up to Luca and patted his shoulders, sending him an impressed smile, "welcome to the family son,"
Son.
The word seemed to elude a newly found softness in Luca's eyes. His brows rested from the furrow it was set in and his lips parted. The brief conversation I had with him in the carriage where he explained how he and his father used to be close before his mother's obsession with power eventually killed him came into mind. He loved me more than I loved him, and that was something rare.
He said something along the lines of that.
Eventually, Luca regained his composure and coughed into his fist, nodding, "Thank you. Your approval is deeply appreciated,"
"I sure hope it is," Father shifted his eyes to me, "I hope you will be attending the pack assembly tomorrow. I have important news to bring to the pack,"
Taking a deep breath, I nodded, unconsciously linking my arms through the warmth of Luca's muscular, large ones, "I will be attending,"
Father smiled, "I'm glad, Leila. Really,"
I wished I felt the same way, because that day, I had an awful feeling settle atop the depth of my heart. It wasn't a prevalent feeling, rather a temporary wave of heaviness overcoming my body.
Judging by the way he tightening his grip on me, I sensed that Luca felt what I felt.
That night, Luca and I slept next to each other's. No pillows. No borders nor armor getting in the way of our bodies. The cat, who I named Lina, snuggled between Luca and I, allowing her purrs to lull us to sleep.
I dreamt of love.
Of a future with Luca.
Of my own kids.
But I also dreamt of loss.
Of a burden.
Of the prophecy the moon had bestowed upon me.
It was a tragically beautiful night saturated with colourful nostalgia and deepening anxiety.
I couldn't describe it any other way.
-_-
Y'all, the prophecies are getting more complicated. What do y'all think? Any theories? What were they using thyme to describe. Who were the orchids referring to? What trumpets will save her? What will they save her from?
I hope it's getting confusing but not to the frustrating point. Have no fear, I will guide you and support you with clues to figure out who is what and when that what will happen.
Vote, comment, and have a wonderful day!!